Book X · ORGELUSE, part 3 of 10

¶And Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness fair, That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk dwelt there. 160 They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they stood or lay, Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the sunlight's ray. Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his sorrow sore, Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they bore, 'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight betray! 165 Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'

¶And many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him threw, And bade him a friendly greeting--to an olive tree he drew, For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I ween, That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had been. 170 And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his beard and grey, And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway. And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed drew near, Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear. Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this steed thine hand, 175 And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom--tho' none here thy will withstand, Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady queen, For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!' Yet Gawain he would do her bidding--'Then, alas! for woe draweth near,' Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not to linger here, 180 The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who made salt the sea, In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy counsel be: And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to shame, She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a shower of rain.'

¶'God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he took his leave 185 Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did grieve. And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the garden gate, And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there did his coming wait, The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so fair, Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her deed it bare. 190

¶Her hand 'neath her chin soft-rounded had loosened the wimple's fold, And flung it aback on her head-gear,--(if a woman ye thus behold, Know ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in mind)-- Would ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song shall find, For how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes aright, 195 When mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her beauty bright?

¶As Gawain drew near the lady, she hailed him with scornful mien, 'Now welcome, thou goose! for of all men most foolish art thou, I ween, All too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou wouldst let it be--' Then he quoth, 'Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so wroth with me, 200 For so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make it good, And my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a milder mood; Ask thou what of me thou willest--Shall I lift thee upon thy steed?' But she quoth, 'I will no such service, for methinks all too great such meed For a hand that is yet unproven--Ask thou for a lesser grace!' 205 On the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on Gawain's face, But she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the saddle sprung, And she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a mocking tongue, 'Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave a knight, By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my sight!' 210

¶Now he who my rede would follow his peace shall he hold awhile, Lest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she wrought of guile, For as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in her heart. And were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my part, And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done Gawain; 215 Nor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged remain.

¶But Orgelusé, that lovely lady, bare herself in no friendly wise, For she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween, her guise That were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul might take That she from my care would free me, and with fair love atonement make. 220 Then they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain see Whose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground sprang he, And dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed again. And the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking vein, 'Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech and knight, 225 For starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear aright!' Quoth Gawain, ''Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw, Methinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison draw From his wounds, and new strength may give him!' She spake, 'Now I well were fain To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence may gain!' 230

¶Now a squire he rode swift behind them, 'twas the lady's messenger, Fain was he to do her bidding--As the horse-hoofs they drew anear Gawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he held, Yet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the squire beheld, For Malcréature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister fair, 235 And e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother bear. From his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth out to left and right, Unlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's sight. And the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from Kondrie hung Adown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his head they sprung. 240 And beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot, Dwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how befell their lot.